I sat in the Presidential (or diplomatic ?) gallery with the White House party, higgledy-piggledy.
The speech ended, the President drove to the White House with his escort in his car.

The crowds in the corridors and about the doors waited and crowded to see Mrs.Wilson, quite respectful but without order or discipline.

We had to push our way through them.

Now and then a policeman at a distance would yell loudly, "Make way there!" When we reached the White House, I asked the doorman if the President had arrived.
"Yes." "Does he expect me to go in and say good-bye ?" "No." Thus he had no idea of talking with me now, if ever.

Not at lunch nor after did he suggest a conversation about American-British affairs or say anything about my seeing him again.
This threatened strike does hold his whole mind--bothers him greatly.
It seems doubtful if he can avert a general strike.